


To Be Content

by FanWriter



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 05:39:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4007914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanWriter/pseuds/FanWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a short Mycroft/Molly moment - can't figure out how else to describe it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Content

Mycroft sat in a little cafe, stirring his tea. Staring across at his companion, he reguarded her curiously. ''You've never used me.''

Startled, Molly lookeed up. Her brows furrowed and her mouth turned down in a slight frown. ''What?'' she questioned.

''Everyone always wants something from me, uses me. Whether it be for my mind, my money or my influence. You, to whom I owe a great debt for all that you've done for my brother - and will most likely continue to do upon his return - have asked for nothing.'' He paused for a moment. ''Why?''

She responed slowly. ''It ... never really occured to me to ask.''

''Never?'' he asked surprised. ''Not once.''

''I was raised to be content with what I have.''

The conversation lulled briefly as the waitress placed a plate of biscuits on their table. ''Well?''

''Well, what?''

''What would you want from me?''

''Nothing.''

''Come, now. There has to be something.'' Mycroft waited in silence as Molly bit her lip in thought. While he waited, he pulled out his mobile and did what business he could away from the office. An hour later and two refills of tea, he looked pointedly across the table. ''Molly ...''

''The last thought I had was taking you to a Penn and Teller show -''

''Okay,'' Mycroft began to stand from his chair, only to pause when he heard the word 'but'.

''- but that would ruin the magic of things,'' she finished.

He sat back down with a sigh. ''How about I make some suggestions? A car?''

Molly wrinkled her nose. ''Nah. I like walking to work, and the few times I do need a vehicle I just call a cab. I like listening to the cabbies; they have such interesting things to talk about. One time, a cabbie even told me that Sherlock had just gotten shot in the arm and he refused medical attention. I called John because I was worried - he didn't know it had happened and was beside himself until Sherlock walked in. John said Mrs. Hudson gave Sherlock a good talking to as he stitched him up.''

''Yes. I recored it. She may not be able to yell very loudly, but she does have a way of getting her point across. What about an apartment?''

''I like the homeliness of my apartment. Besides, it's taken me this long just to figure it out. Like if the refridgerator won't open, bang on the freezer four times - or if the TV starts to lose signal, shift it a quarter-inch to the left and slap the bottom right side of it. It'll come in crystal clear,'' she beamed.

Mycroft blinked at her a few times and took a deep breath. ''Money?''

''Oh, no. I have my account set up just so. I'm afraid any increase will throw me off.''

''A raise?''

''That's, somewhat the same thing.''

''A premotion?''

''That's Mike's job. If I move up any higher, then I'll mostly just be doing paper work. So as long as my fingers allow, I'd prefer to hold the scalpel. It's like a 'guess what', really,'' she digressed, ''you never know who's gonna roll in next.''

After a perplexed pause, he continued. ''Wardrobe?''

''What's wrong with my wardrobe?''

''Nothing,'' he replied hastily, his eyes widenly innocently. ''Vaction?''

She chuckled. ''Where would I go?''

''Anywhere.''

''Mycroft, how many countries in the world are there?''

''According to the U.N.? 195.'' he replied with no hesistation.

''Right. So minus England, that's 194 many places to choose from. How could I decide?''

''By narrowing it down,'' he perked up, thinking he was getting somewhere. ''Would you rather the beach, desert, the mountains?''

''I don't know?''

He sighed audibly. ''Molly ...''

''Really.''

''What about a get-out-of-jail-free card?'' He was grasping for strings now.

''I don't plan on doing anything to go to jail for.'' She looked at him, smiling. ''Is it so hard for you to believe that I don't want anything from you, besides what we already have?'' she asked, referring to their 'a little more than just friends' relationship.

''Slightly,'' he admitted.

She laughed and looked at him tenderly. ''I don't want anything from you besides just being able to be with you.''

He swallowed the unexpected lump that formed in his throat. Reaching across the table, he gently gathered her hand in his. ''Well, I think that is something I can continue to give you right now.''


End file.
